


Pumpkin Spice Latte

by Hormonal_Trashbag



Series: Home is Where the Heart is [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Exes, F/M, Getting Back Together, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7733092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hormonal_Trashbag/pseuds/Hormonal_Trashbag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben knows he's made a huge mistake--living without her has proved that much. Now he has to piece everything back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pumpkin Spice Latte

**Author's Note:**

> I can't let anything be completely happy, it seems. This is set before Pretzels and Prosecco.

It was as Ben walked through the chiming door of a cafe that he saw her once more. She was turning away from the register to wait for her drink as he stepped in, a yellow envelope tucked under her arm as she struggled to shove her change into her wallet.

He saw her the moment he entered, but she took a few moments to look up, and their gazes met. Both of them paused, uncertain. He should have left before she saw him, but now it was too late. He could hardly make himself scarce after she knew he was there, too.

He promptly shoved both gloved hands into his peacoat pockets, then approached, unable to keep his lip from quirking in the corner.

“Rey,” he breathed, and it was like a sigh of relief.

It had been almost a year since he’d last seen her, but she was unchanged.

“Hi, Ben,” she forced a smile, but it didn’t quite spark in her eyes, like it should have.

As he suspected, he should have left. Even if she had already seen him. He should have turned around and _ran,_ because he was still the last person she wanted to see. This knowledge settled like a hefty bag bricks in his stomach.

She continued without pause. “How have you been?”

“Good,” he answered, though it was only partially true. He wasn’t _good_ enough to say that he was. Rey didn’t need to know that.

“I’m glad,” she said, and this time her small smile was a bit more genuine.

His chest tightened painfully at the sight of her.

“Are you doing anything?” he asked, then without thinking, “we should catch up, if you aren’t busy.”

“I was going to finish some grading,” she admitted. Ben started to kick himself. “But I think I can talk for a bit.”

Her name was called, and she grabbed her coffee--a pumpkin spice latte.

“Great,” he beamed. “Give me a sec, and I’ll order something.”

She nodded, her focus more on the latte currently pressed to her lips than him. Ben wasn’t offended; pumpkin spice was what kept her going in the chill of November. “I’ll grab a table.”

Ben was somewhat flustered as he shuffled to the register to order a dark roast coffee, room for cream. He should have known he would see Rey again eventually, considering they both had the same circle of friends, and lived in the same area. She taught physics at the public high school, so he doubted she had moved from her last apartment.

He scrunched himself into the small seat at the table she had selected, folding his legs at uncomfortable angles to fit. Despite the ferocity of their last meeting, she managed to look amused at his predicament. His inability to fit into furniture was something she had frequently teased him about in the past.

“Helmet Hair misses you,” he commented.

She snorted, and it reminded him of old times. “I’m pretty sure that monstrous ball of fur doesn’t miss me. If anything, he misses puking in my shoes.”

He scratched his chin. “Yeah, probably,”

Rey shook her head, hiding a grin in the rim of her cup. “Never mind the demon cat. How are your parents doing?”

She had always liked his parents, and though there was some residual tension between him and his father especially, Ben was trying to make up for the years of silence. She had redeemed him to his parents, after the horrible phase that had been his early twenties. It was very like Rey to slice right into the heart of his issues with little regard for his easily injured feelings.

“Better, I think. Dad keeps asking about you,” he murmured.

This wasn’t what she wanted to hear, because she rolled her shoulders, sighing. “Ben--”

“I’m sorry,” he huffed, interrupting her while feeling mildly ashamed. “You shouldn’t have to care about that.”

She set her latte onto the tabletop. “That isn’t fair.”

He shrugged half-heartedly, looking at her from the lid of his coffee cup as he took a sip. “Well, you shouldn’t have to put up with my family if you don’t have to.”

“It was never about _putting up_ with your parents, Ben.”

He was silent as his gaze fell to the floor, then darted to an abstract painting that took up most of the wall opposite of them. It seemed he had yet to break the habit of stuffing his foot in his mouth, and of course, it was Rey that bore witness to the worst of it. Ben hadn’t changed much, either.

“I know,” he replied at last, his voice quiet.

“It was about me having no one, and you pushing away everyone and anyone that loved you. You, taking everything that mattered to me and disregarding it.”

“Rey,” he started.

She stood abruptly. “This was a mistake. I’m not ready to do this with you. I’m going to go.”

He scrambled out of the too-small chair. “Rey, wait--”

“Enjoy your coffee,” she said, slipping out the front door.

Ben panicked. This had been a chance to make things right with Rey, and he had made a fool of himself, as usual. Just like last time, Rey was running away from him. He would not make the mistake of letting her, again.

He knew he had hurt her. She had no reason to give him a second chance, after the horrible way he had treated her. Rey had been completely justified in ending their relationship. Yet, the thought that he would never see her again, never talk to her again, never touch her again, was absolutely horrifying. He had managed a year without her, but would he last another? Another ten?

She had crossed the street by the time he rushed outside, his coffee abandoned to the cafe table.

“Rey, wait!” he called, blundering through oncoming traffic to catch her before she disappeared.

He ignored the horn honking, to which she turned back in concern to see him reach her side of the street.

“You’re going to get yourself killed! Are you insane?” she snarled.

“Yes!” he snapped back, with more force than he intended.

Her back straightened in surprise, her eyes widening as he stormed to her with steady stomps, his hands in fists. He had taken his gloves off in the cafe, and now they were cold.

“I’m completely fucking _insane_. But that’s not the point. The point is, I’m still in love with you. I hurt you. I ruined our relationship, because that’s what I’m best at, but maker do I miss you, and how you drink gallons of pumpkin spice latte every year, and the way you smile, and how you fought with my stupid cat over the couch whenever you came over, and--”

“We’re over, Ben!” she interrupted sharply. “We have been for a long time! Just wanting me back isn’t going to be enough!”

“It doesn’t have to be over--”

“It does!” she said. “I didn’t grow up with a family to take for granted, Ben. I met you, and you were my everything, my _family_. You became all that I had. I have done nothing but work hard to get to where I am, even though it meant sacrificing my own happiness.”

There were tears in her eyes, and he felt the familiar sting in his own. Ben knew what was coming, but he had no right to stop her from revealing his own sins to the city streets. He held his tongue.

“You told me I had no drive; that I was passionless, stagnating, boring. You said I was just a plain, old teacher. Do you think I’ve forgotten this? That I ever could?”

“I made a mistake,” he replied, voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “I regretted it the moment I said those things. I regret even thinking them.”

Rey exhaled, her gaze trailing up to his face, her expression hardening through the tears that trickled over the rounded slopes of her cheeks. It took all his restraint to keep from reaching for her, if only so he could wipe them away. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to speed the blood flow and warm his fingers.

“But you did think them,” she told him, tone astonishingly soft. In that moment, she looked just as tired as he felt, and Ben realized she was doing about as well as he was. “I don’t know that I can forgive you for that.”

She turned slowly, as if the very act of moving away gave her pain. She meant for the conversation to be over. Ben couldn’t allow that.

“So, don’t forgive me. You shouldn’t,” he said.

Her steps paused, but she didn’t face him again. He watched her shoulders tremble, her arms slowly curl around her abdomen. “You aren’t making any sense.”

“I don’t want you to forgive me, not now, perhaps not ever,” he mumbled, fingers combing through messy, dark hair. “All I’m asking for is another chance. You helped me redeem myself to my parents; can’t you let me try to redeem myself to you?”

At first, she didn’t answer. He slowly approached.

“If you hadn’t noticed, Rey, I’m an incredibly stupid person. Maybe that doesn’t matter, but I’ve ruined a lot of things with my fat mouth.”

She cracked a sob, and the sound reverberated off the building faces. “Ben, I can’t do this. I wouldn’t recover, if you broke my heart again. It’s better this way. Safer.”

“It’s not better this way,” he argued, spinning her by her shoulders. “This way is _horrible.”_

Ben tugged her closer, and she ducked her head into the span of his chest, burying her face into the collar of his coat. Tentatively, he rested his chin on the crown of her head.

“I miss the inspiring, hard-nose teacher that encourages her students to study what she loves, that rants about each and everyone of them as if they were her own children. I miss the woman I’m in love with,” he paused to ask. “Do you miss me?”

Her voice is barely perceivable through the thick layer of his peacoat. _“Yes.”_

Her arms are around his hips, and nothing had seemed quite so right in a year. He engulfed her in his own embrace, holding her firmly, hoping with all his being that this wouldn’t be the last time he felt that way.

She turned her face so that she could speak more easily, and he stroked her hair.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you,” she admitted, pulling back. “I haven’t wanted to. But Ben, if we don’t work out--”

 _“If?”_ he repeated. “You’re giving me another chance?”

She pursed her lips, thinking so loudly Ben was certain he could hear the cogs of her mind turning, could even see them, through the glass of her eyes. A small, gloved hand stretched up to his jaw, stroking along the sharp line.

“I want to think about it,” she replied at length.

It was more than what he could really ask for, Ben knew.

“Now come on,” she smiled sheepishly, her hand slipping into his, “let’s try that coffee thing again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and for the amazing feedback I've gotten for the other parts of this series! :)


End file.
